We know your errand, sir. Speak, and Clifford here will answer you. Douglas. Lord Clifford will, and must: be sure of that. I also crave King Edward's open ear. Clifford will reckon with me for my land: You, sire, must render an account of blood. Clifford. Clifford has yet to learn why Douglas dare Speak such a swift defiance. Edward I. [turning his back to Douglas]. Answer him On this wise, my good lord:--Your father, sir, A faithless felon, died a prisoner In Edward's dungeon; and his forfeit lands Reverted to the crown. It pleased the king To make me lord of Douglasdale. Go, then, Buy land where'er you may, I keep my own. He has his answer, follow me, my lords. [Edward I., Pembroke, Clifford, and Percy go out. Douglas. There's justice in the heavens if not in kings! He might have listened. It is very plain King Edward means to play the tyrant now. Yet tyrants can be courteous. Insolent! To toss an answer o'er his shoulder at me, Whetting with crude affront, the pointed "No," As one would check a cringeing beggar's plea. One way is left, a flinty, narrow way, The rebel's way, the way I still have shunned: And yet it seems a broad, green, garden-walk, Since I elect to be a traveller there. Now though it be as hopeless as to stem The Solway's tide, or toss the deep-based Bass From Forth to France, with all my strength I'll fight Against this tyrannous usurping king. How strange that I should find rebellion's storm The happy haven where my troubles end! But so it is: my cares are blown away; Light-hearted vigour is my lot once more; And trampled conscience, like the heath released, Springs up, and breathes sweet scent of approbation. [Goes out. SCENE II.--Dumfries. The Greyfriars Church. Enter Bruce and Comyn of Badenoch.